


constellations

by cresswell



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: Apologies, Cuddles, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, I wrote this really quick so please forgive me, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 13:48:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresswell/pseuds/cresswell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the night callie tells brandon her confession, he makes a confession of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	constellations

The knock comes at Callie's door somewhere after midnight. She sits up, dazed from being in that halfway-asleep place, and stumbles up to the door.

"Hi," Brandon says, voice a hushed whisper, bottom lip wedged between his teeth. Callie stands in the doorway, heartbeat picking up. "You can't come in here," she says, voice weak. "It's nighttime, and if Stef and Lena- if you're in here, and if they think-"

"I just want to talk," Brandon says, looking down, his hair falling over his eyes. "It's been an intense day for you. I didn't really know how to react." He glances up at her through his eyelashes. "But I do now."

Callie shifts aside and he tiptoes in, their arms brushing. It isn't until she turns around and turns on her bedside lamp that she sees he's carrying a glass of something thick and chocolatey. She takes it hesitantly, the cold of the liquid seeping through to her hand, and Brandon shrugs shyly. "Jude says you like chocolate milkshakes. I found some ice cream in the freezer and thought that after today..." he sits down on the edge of her bed, playing with his fingers in his lap. "I hope you like it."

She sips on it, sighing in bliss as she flops down next to him. "Holy shit, it's amazing." She smiles at him, feeling her guard slipping away. "Thank you."

"Yeah, it's nothing." He takes the edge of the blanket she offers him and they lie down on opposite ends of the bed, silent except for the sound of Callie sipping at her milkshake.

"I love this room," she says, somewhat abruptly. "Not that I don't like Mariana, but when she's gone for sleepovers, like tonight, it's so quiet."

"She sure can talk a lot," Brandon agrees, and Callie giggles around her straw. "Thank you for trying to get her out of that party, by the way."

Callie makes a noise of dismissal, reaching over and flicking off the lamp. When she sees Brandon's expression, she laughs quietly. "Relax. I just like being able to see the stars out the window," she says, and points up at the sky. "Besides, if Stef or Lena come in, I'll just push you on the floor."

She giggles again, and Brandon rolls on his side, the soft white blanket like a wall of heat across them. He draws nonsense patterns on her sheets, which are Mariana's old ones, light pink with little blue flowers on them. "I'm sorry about the other day."

She turns her head to look at him, confusion on her face. He swallows. "I mean, after I picked you and Wyatt up. On the porch."

"Oh." Callie looks away, eyebrows knitting. She pulls her hands against her chest and shrugs. "It's okay. We can just pretend it didn't happen."

"I don't want to," Brandon admits, looking away when she turns back to him. "I said what I said because I meant it, Callie. I still do. And I know it's wrong, because you're with Wyatt and because we're not allowed." Callie's eyes are wide and on his face, the stars out the window forgotten. "But doesn't it  _feel_  right? What happened with Liam-"

Callie flinches away from him when he says the name, and he takes her hands. She doesn't pull away, and her hands are so small and delicate, and she is so  _breakable_  and suddenly Brandon feels a wave of rage towards Liam.

"What happened with Liam was really fucked up. It wasn't your fault, and you know that. And I know you're afraid- who wouldn't be? I understand, Callie- well, as much as I can. And I'm trying. And I'm going to keep trying and I'm going to wait until you're ready to be something with me, all right?" He looks down at their hands. Her nails are painted a dark grey, contrasting against her pale skin. "I see the way you look at me, you know?" He draws patterns on the soft inside of her wrist, feeling her knee knock into his under the blanket. "It's the same way I look at you."

He looks up and she's crying a bit. She's silent and Brandon winds his arms around her, and she slides closer until their heads are on the same pillow. "I don't know what I want," she says, voice cracking. "It can't happen again."

"I would never-" he starts, but she cuts him off, shakes her head.

"No, I know. But being with a foster sibling- I can't, Brandon, and you know that."

"Nobody would have to know," he says, but his voice is so soft he's afraid she might not hear.

She does, though, a half-smile on her mouth. Her hand comes out and touches his cheek, his jaw, her fingertips brushing over his lips. "Maybe," she breathes, eyes on his mouth, and Brandon can't move. "But someone would know eventually. And then we'd both be fucked."

"I understand," Brandon says, and slips out from under the blanket, a little unsteady on his feet at first. "I'll see you in the morning."

He's about to pull the door open when she calls out for him. When he turns around she's sitting up in her bed, hair wild around her face, and he can tell she's arguing with herself in her head. He waits at the door, hand still lingering on the knob until she speaks.

"Stay," she says, and it's one word but it brings a wave of relief over Brandon. He climbs back under the blanket and Callie twines one leg through his, her face against his collarbones. "I get nightmares sometimes," she warns, tilting her face up to look at him.

He runs his fingers through her hair, drawing the constellations in the sky on her back. "It's okay." He watches the way her eyelashes touch her cheeks, the way the veins in her neck move when she swallows. "I'll still be here."


End file.
